PVS alumnus Peter Kadel (‘18) now attends Virginia Tech. When here, he was a beloved blogger and, among other things, an AP English Language student. In AP Lang, Peter [was forced to] read Annie Dillard’s essay “Living Like Weasels.” An excerpt of Dillard’s essay is reprinted below. Peter reached out to us–seems he had a “weasel” moment while walking to his dining hall. Happily, he thought of us and captured it in writing.

“Living Like Weasels”

by Annie Dillard

The sun had just set. I was relaxed on the tree trunk, ensconced in the lap of lichen, watching the lily pads at my feet tremble and part dreamily over the thrusting path of a carp. A yellow bird appeared to my right and flew behind me. It caught my eye; I swiveled around–and the next instant, inexplicably, I was looking down at a weasel, who was looking up at me.

Weasel! I’d never seen one wild before. He was ten inches long, thin as a curve, a muscled ribbon, brown as fruitwood, soft-furred, alert. . . .

The weasel was stunned into stillness as he was emerging from beneath an enormous shaggy wild rose bush four feet away. I was stunned into stillness twisted backward on the tree trunk. Our eyes locked, and someone threw away the key.

Peter’s Weasel Moment . . .

Annie Dillard’s essay “Living Like Weasels” describes a moment when she made eye contact and had a connection with a weasel. I had dismissed this as odd like I had done with every other thing she wrote. But, I was walking to a dining hall from class and heard a rustling noise from an underground drainage grate, not in much of a hurry, I went over to investigate. As I stood over the grate, the source of the rustling scurried into the underground pipe, seemingly gone forever. But something made me decide to crouch above the grate and wait for the critter to show itself. Seconds later, as if it shared my curiosity, a little triangular head with black and white stripes on the face and grey on the head peeked out from the pipe. The triangular head turned to look up at me, and I found myself eyes locked with a raccoon. I was surprised and enthralled by this little creature. For a few moments we just stared at each other. Then he darted off to continue about his day, and I stood up and went on my way. It wasn’t till later I realized I HAD JUST HAD MY WEASEL MOMENT! But instead of a weasel, it was a raccoon. Now I realize the importance of Dillard’s piece; we all have the chance to experience that moment. And the animal we have it with reflects us. Dillard got the tenacious, scrappy and clever weasel. I got the mischievous, rambunctious, and curious raccoon, a pretty accurate reflection of myself. –Peter Kadel